


Whitebait

by Dryad



Category: Jane Eyre - Charlotte Brontë
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-18
Packaged: 2018-04-05 00:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4158753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dryad/pseuds/Dryad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>I wish you both the greatest joy in your common endeavour - </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whitebait

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lavode](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavode/gifts).



> Gentle readers, St. John is pronounced 'Sinjin'.

_Park House_  
_Brighton_  
_June 15, 18-_

_Dearest Diana,_

_It was with great surprise that I read your letter concerning Miss Caroline. I do hope she has recovered from such an infelicitous affair, and that her prospects are not in any way harmed. I do not have any such news as in regards to the inmates of this house. Has St. John said -_

 

Mary stopped and looked up, then put her pen in its stand before rising to her feet. She bobbed her head and tried to maintain a pleasant expression.

"And this is Mary, the governess," said Lady Wells, sweeping into the room with barely a glance towards where Mary had been writing her letter. "As you can see, she is passable at painting and drawing."

The two gentlemen following her nodded at Mary. The first, an older fellow wearing a badly fitted wig and unfashionable breeches, went to view the paintings Mary had on display on the easels. The other gentleman, a tall man dressed in the new style, dark brown French trousers, a black frock coat and vest, a cream shirt. He put his hands behind his back, and drifted to the bookcase. Mary stayed where she was, waiting for any question Lady Wells might have for her concerning the education of Robbie and Jamie and little Eleanor.

"Of course as soon as they're older we're sending them to Harrow for their schooling. Mary is fine for their younger years."

"And what, may I inquire, does their learning consist of now?" asked the younger gentleman, who held a book open in his hand.

"Geography, mathematics, French, and literacy," answered Mary. She motioned towards the box of wooden toys by the desk. "We use their toys to explore the geography of the wider world, and follow the letters of Dr. Oudney and Mr. Clapperton in their adventures in Africa."

The young gentleman smiled, his eyes soft as he gazed upon her. "A useful way of discussing the most challenging and exciting topics of our time. And what about Science?"

"We have started our own collections of insects," she went to the other table and picked up a box. Turning, she opened the top and showed the collection within. "We began with butterfly cases, and as the season has progressed, moved on to whole moths as well."

"But there are so many moths and butterflies to chose from? how do you store them all?"

"Oh, we decided to only follow the Adonis Blue. They are plentiful this time of year, and so pretty. It is also a good opportunity to have Master James and Master Robbie practice sitting still and observing nature as all true scientists do."

"Yes," interrupted Lady Wells. She clasped her hands together, but Mary felt she was the only one who noticed how tightly her fingers were interlaced.

"As I said, Mary is competent at this stage, but the boys will get proper schooling soon enough. Now, sirs, do come with me to the library, and I will show you such wondrous works as you would never have imagined. Have you hear of Mr. Audubon? We have several of his works here, from his tour last year. We have subscribed to his book, the Birds of America, which should arrive in the new year. My cousin George, who lives in New York City - "

Once they had gone, Mary re-seated herself to finish her letter. Her heart was pounding, because an appearance by Lady Wells was the last thing she had expected. Of course, that did not make her feel any better about their meeting. She was a good governess, she knew it well enough. Jamie was almost thirteen and precociously intelligent, while Robbie and little Eleanor were only little, four and three respectively, how could they be know anything beyond what their tender years? They were not formed enough to know more. This would be her greatest challenge, for she knew what kind of learning they would get at Harrow. They were rambunctious children, and she could only hope that the instruction she gave them would be enough to keep them in the kind hands of God.

A moment later she tidied her desk, folding the letter away and securing the pen and inkwell, placing them well away from prying little hands. It was time to prepare the afternoon lessons. Yes, they would go outside and practice their dancing. Eleanor was certainly  taking to it despite her tender age, though Robbie was more interested in throwing sticks and chopping off the heads of flowers.

 

~*~

_Bath  
August 4, 18-_

_Dearest St. John,_

_My dear, if you wish her to be yours, you must warm your heart and give it yourself to her, for she is not one to reach out and take for herself. I wish you both the greatest joy in your common endeavour -_

Mary folded the letter and addressed it, put it to one side. She wished she knew what to say to make him understand that Jane was not of the same temperament as he thought. Jane was a lively creature, pretty and gentle, with a fierceness underneath that Mary was sure only she, Diana, and Hannah had seen. She was not above speaking firmly to strange children, nor did she tolerate such common cruelties that adults set upon those smaller and younger than themselves. If anything, she was kind. Kind to those unfortunates lacking proper instruction in deportment and carriage, and such tender willingness to help them improve. Mary herself had heard it directly from Mrs. Horton, as well as in a letter from Mrs. Agricola, who had passed it on to Hannah at the Saturday market. Mary shook her head in bemusement. Alice, Mrs. Agricola's daughter, was strong and stout, with the most marvelous complexion, and she had gone from a slug-a-bed who ignored her homework, to the most eager pupil in the class. And in only a few short months! Jane was a miracle to not only the school, but to St. John and Diana and herself, too.

But she feared Jane was too headstrong for St. John, that they would clash, and often, for Jane spoke her mind, and St. John...St. John was…he was himself. Mary sighed. For all that he was wonderful in writing his sermons, he could be equally poor in judging the feelings of others. She and Diana had grown up with it, of course, they were used to how he was and considered his other facets in turn. He was steadfast and calm, and not given to melancholy very frequently. Yet, he could be too cool, and very firm in his beliefs, and unwilling to change them.

There was a quiet knock on the door, Jenkins came in. Mary raised a finger to her lips, glancing at the crib - yes, they were still asleep, though little Eleanor was restless.

"If you please, miss," whispered Jenkins, bobbing a curtsey and holding out a letter with cream colored paper. The ribbon tying it was navy blue, as was the wax. "This came for you this morning."

"Thank you, answered Mary, frowning. Clicking her tongue once, she waited until Jenkins was out of the room before breaking the seal. The handwriting was unfamiliar, the black script proof of a solid and steady hand. Curious, she began to read.

_Dear Miss Rivers,_

_I daresay you might be frightened of the correspondence by a mere stranger, but I do hope you remember our meeting some months ago at -- House in Brighton, where I made your acquaintance with the inestimable Lady Wells and her companion, the artist Jos. Bailey. I was the gentleman who asked the question in regards to Geography, yes?"_

Of course. Mary nodded to herself.

_I fear I am rather forward, must beg your pardon in wanting to better make your acquaintance without further introduction. There was not time, unfortunately, to do so that day. I allowed some months to pass in the knowledge that would such odd feelings are fleeting, but I confess I have been greatly unable to forget your sweet countenance, hence this letter. I wonder if you would do me the very great honour of allowing me to take tea, the next time I am in Brighton? I will of course write to Lady Wells and inform her of my arrival, and beg her indulgence in this matter._

_If I may speak of myself for a moment. My name is William Nairn, and as one can tell, am of Scottish ancestry. I attended the University of Aberdeen in my youth, and since then have been abroad for some years in order to complete my research. Now I have returned to these shores in order to gather my thoughts and present to the Royal Society at Kew. I believe I have specimens that shall be of great value, especially from the tropics in the West Indies. Thus you understand my joy at your answers to my question. I cannot express to you the happiness I felt, knowing that two children are being raised in the spirit of Science._

_But let me speak to my own character. You will own, of course, that I present myself in the best light possible. I shall not speak of my temper, which while not quick, makes itself known at the most ill time. I find my work satisfying, and tend to leave bedtime for late in the evening, and rise as early as possible to get the dawn light. I must sometimes be forced to stop and eat, especially if I am in polite company. I care not for the latest fashions, save where I am to be presented to such Lords and Ladies who make it possible for me to continue my work. The points in my favor - and I'm sure you must be wondering if I am ever going to reach them - are thus; I enjoy the company of the fairer sex a great deal, having been raised with three sister and a mother who has four aunts and five uncles. There are numerous cousins, each of whom has their own place in my heart. My father is a merchant in the sugar and wood trade, thus my involvement in Botany, for he would return from the Caribbean and the Far East with boxes and boxes of goods just for me. I hope to pass on the eagerness with which I opened each box down to my own children, should I find a wife for whom this would be agreeable._

_Are you agreeable, Miss Rivers?_

_Once again I must beg your forgiveness, for boldness and brazenness are also two more of my faults. I cannot bear to mention any more of them, they will have to be found out by another._

_I do have more good points! I am generous, and I have been told I am funny. I speak French, German, and Italian, and can get along passably well in Portuguese. I travel well. I tolerate heat equally well as cold._

_I hope you find this letter more amusing than annoying, Miss Rivers. If it pleases you, do let me know if I am welcome to join you once again._

_Most humbly,_

_Wm. Nairn_

Mary put down the letter.

With her face burning, she picked it up, read it once again.

A queer thrum of energy ran through her. Mr. Nairn was, as she recalled, a handsome man. Tall, with black hair. He had a good leg, and clear blue eyes. Above all, a kind smile. What did it mean? Would Lady Wells even entertain the idea of him coming to visit her? Mary stood up, walked to the window to look out upon the grounds. The day was overcast and grey, clouds whipping along above. Would it rain? She found she did not much care either way in the light of the letter. Let it thunder, let it hail, let it snow! She would be warm in the regard of her suitor.

If Lady Wells was amenable.

Crossing to her desk again, she picked a fresh sheet of paper, this one decorated with pale violets along the border. Having painted them herself, she had fully intended to write a letter on this paper and send it to Diana, who appreciated such things. She hoped, however that Lady Wells would find the paper amusing enough to say yes to Mr. Nairn's proposal.

 

~*~

_London  
October 25, 18--_

_Dearest Diana,_

_It is with great news that I write to you! I have a beau. His name is William Nairn, and he is a scientist, a botanist! He has traveled in places we have never heard of, and has more stories than a person can comprehend._

_He asked Lady Wells if he could come to tea, and she has said yes! There is to be a small function in three weeks, a dance to which I have been invited! Please send to me my green-sprigged dress, and may I borrow your good tartan shawl? I shall of course return it as soon as I am able._

_Mr. Nairn hails from Scotland and has a good family. He is also wealthy, with a settlement of ten thousand a year! Oh, here is someone at the door, I must fly. I shall write again soon,_

_Your devoted sister_

_Mary Rivers_

~*~  
Fin  
~*~

**Author's Note:**

> I can't stand St. John, and just _couldn't_ have Mary marry one of his friends! I can assure you that William Nairn is very good looking though. Think Richard Armitage or Ian Kelsey...or maybe that's just me...
> 
> Anyway, I hope you liked it!


End file.
